


My Rights of Thee

by orphan_account



Category: Henry IV Part 1 - Shakespeare
Genre: Explicit Sex, F/M, Finally I write smut, Married Couple, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Scars, ends in fluff seriously, gratuitous fluff, mild choking, post-sex cuddles, then cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7441690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is an ass. Kate is mad. You do the math. Roughness and tenderness to follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Rights of Thee

**Author's Note:**

> My first and only time writing smut. No particular actors in mind (I respect them too much), feel free to put in your preferred Katespur. The only warnings are pretty much in the tags- rough sex, mild choking, and a fluffy ending. Have fun reading this. I need to go to confession now.

Kate was so mad when Hotspur returned from his latest skirmish with the Douglas. He was as usual bloody and infuriatingly triumphant, forgetful of his fretting wife, who he hadn't kissed goodbye or even bid her farewell when he set out. He had left without even seeing her, as if he were still unmarried and didn't have a wife and baby to take care of. He was so single-minded that he forgot or flat-out ignored anything not relating to his defense of the border. This served him well in battle but not in the rest of his life. 

"You complete arse!" Kate yelled, storming up to him as he dismounted his horse. "I have been worried sick! You think you can leave like that? And look at you!" If he weren't already wounded she would have punched him right in the face. 

"I just had to get there quick, love," Harry said, staying a good distance from his angry wife. 

"Don't you care?" Kate replied, aching from anger, fear, and hurt that he seemed to forget her. "You can't do this, Harry. You have a son, you have me..." she strove to keep from dissolving into tears. "I know it's your job but can't you take better care of yourself?" 

Harry slowly approached her, laying his big hands on her shoulders when he was at arm's length. "Kate, I'm sorry. I had to go." He tried to kiss her but she rebuffed him, escaping his grasp and storming back in. 

\---

Harry cleaned himself up, bitterly resenting that Kate wasn't there, she wasn't the one scrubbing him down as she usually was. She usually drew him a bath, one of the ways she showed affection. Of course he deserved her anger and her absence. He pulled on fresh clothes, the fabric harsh against his new wounds. He went to find Kate, hoping they could patch things up. She was right, as always, although Harry was loath to admit it. After five years of marriage they'd had their first child, a son named for his father, and Harry had to think of himself too- although he was perfectly fine with dying in battle- which was probably how he was going to go anyway.

He found Kate pacing in the hall, her arms crossed and muttering in Welsh. She looked up when she heard him approach. She called him several nasty things in Welsh and he shot back at her in English- he could never get his mouth around the damned language, thanks in part to the speech impediment that he fought to keep under control. 

"Come on, Kate," he said, seriously. "Take it out on me. I deserve it." 

Instead of attacking with anger she struck with passion, grabbing him and kissing him fiercely. Harry was filled with desire and she was too as she crushed his lips with hers. She pulled away from him and glared at him. He twisted her around so her back was on his chest.

Harry slowly moved his hands up her body, finally resting on her breasts and cupping them with surprising gentleness. "Let's take this argument somewhere else," he growled in her ear. Kate pushed her hips back against him, feeling his arousal and she grinned, knowing she was making it worse. Her rage was quickly being replaced with desire. 

"Good idea," she said, hearing him groan quietly as she ground against him again. "What, battle not enough for you?"

"Unf- get going, then," he grunted, a little louder. He pushed Kate away and laid a playful slap on her arse. She grabbed his hand, twisting it. 

"Bed. Now." She snarled. Harry allowed her to drag him properly into their bedroom before she broke his finger or something else. She was right, if they didn't get to bed they'd end up against the wall. Harry grabbed her for a kiss, still unable to not caress her, not touch her. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, which she accepted, wrapping her arms around him.

Kate stumbled back against the bed and brought Harry down on top of her, still in the kiss. He straddled her, grinding against her and frantically trying to unwrap her from her simple gray dress. Kate moved her hand down his chest to his groin, trying to undo the laces of his breeches. He sat up back on her legs and pulled off his shirt, revealing his muscular, scarred chest, then returned to getting Kate out of her dress. It landed, fortunately unripped, on the floor with Harry's shirt and was soon followed by his trousers and the underclothes of both. Kate pulled him down for another kiss, this time being the more assertive one. As much as she liked sometimes to be more submissive, she had no intention of being that tonight. 

Harry looked down at her stomach, seeing the pink, raw marks his fingernails had left in getting her undressed. "Sorry," he mumbled, leaning down and kissing the scratches. Kate tried to hold back a giggle at the tickling sensation, and just couldn't when he ran his tongue up the wound. He stroked it a few more times, then moved to the other three scratches, which he gave the same soothing licks. Kate sighed as the pain went away with each wet caress.

She instantly missed the ministrations as he moved away, but he began kissing down her stomach until he found the place that set her to moaning. Harry took his time, in doing this he was unusually methodical and careful, listening to what made her gasp and moan the most. Finally Kate was pushed over the edge, leaving her panting and trembling. He lay a surprisingly gentle kiss on the spot he'd made raw, drawing out a whimper from his lady above him. 

When he moved up her body, Kate took hold of his length, stroking it. His hand joined hers as it moved up and down, speeding up to the right pace and making him grow harder. Harry moaned at the soft but strong touch of his wife's hand, Kate loved the feeling of his warmth around both sides of her hand as he thrust into it. He kissed her on the lips as his free hand kneaded her breast, his other hand still wrapped around hers. He moaned even louder, breaking the kiss for a moment when her thumb circled the head, helped along by the beginning leak. Kate was pleased with the way she could reduce her soldier to this. She adored him and wanted him to enjoy this too, considering he'd taken care of her first. 

She broke the kiss only to move down his chest, kissing and tracing the scars across him. Before she reached any lower than his ribcage, Harry pulled her back up to him.  
"Aren't you naughty," Harry smirked, slapping her arse. It stung, but pleasantly so. He'd lined his hand up for another strike but Kate grabbed his hand before he could pull away and made him rub the reddening patch, which he did without further prompting. It led to him tenderly stroking the flesh, indecisive as to if he wanted to be gentle or rough or both.

"That's only because you spurred me on," she replied to his comment with an equal grin. 

"Also apparently hot," he added rather nonsensically, flipping her over so he was on top of her. He teased her with the head of his length for an agonizing moment, making her want him more (although she didn't resort to begging) before finally thrusting in. Time to get down to business. As they moved, he gripped her thighs, knowing full well she'd be bruised in the morning (he would be too) and she gripped his shoulders and chest. Her fingernails scratched and she pressed one hand carefully on his neck where it cut off just enough oxygen, which he'd found, to the surprise of both, that he liked. He trusted her not to hurt him, something he did with very few people in the rest of his life.

She tried to get on top again but he pinned her to the bed taking charge, and asserting it with every stroke. The motions elicited soft moans from Kate and louder groaning from Harry, who was always as loud in bed as out. He knew she could be louder, he could get her to cry out and swear a good mouth-filling oath. He pulled her legs up to hook over his hips, never slowing down, forcing her to keep up the pace of her hips- no taking it slow for them.

"C'mon, Kate," he groaned, pressing his forehead into her shoulder and nipping at her soft, delicious skin. Kate moved her hands to first run over his firm arse (tightened by years of work. He truly was fantastic physically) and then up his back, tracing his spine and the scars cris-crossing his back. She knew where all his scars were, when he'd got them, and how long they'd taken to heal. 

Harry kissed her shoulder, gentle in contrast to the rest of their lovingly violent lovemaking. He roughly slid his hand down between them, finding the same place his mouth had worked earlier, softening the strokes after a moment. Kate's hand went to the back of his head and she buried her fingers as deep as she could in his hair. She had to be as close as she could to him and she never wanted to let him go. "Kate..." Harry gasped between thrusts, his forehead still pressed on her shoulder, "I need..."

"Yes?" She gasped as he thrusted again. His pace had become more erratic now. Harry lifted his head from her shoulder and kissed her forehead, slowing down for a moment. "Harry?" 

"I... I need you, Kate." 

Maybe it was was his words, or his fingers that he certainly made use of, or the fact that they'd been at it for a decent amount of time. Kate wasn't sure, but she came, finally making the noise he'd been waiting for which was half his name, half some oath in Welsh. Harry soon followed her, crying her name, his vocal release just as loud. He collapsed on top of her, both of their chests heaving, both unable to think for a moment and both completely in love. 

"I mean it," Harry said, out of breath. "I need you. I love you, Kate." He rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He did love her, in body and heart, sometimes while in anger and her tears and his remorse, other times with tenderness and stolen kisses and hands held.

"I love you too, Harry," Kate replied, curling up with her head on his shoulder. His fiery temper had earned him his nickname but he kept her warm in the cold and dreary north. It didn't matter that half the time he was covered in blood, literally from battle with raiding Scots or figuratively from battle with her. She whispered it again in Welsh. "Ti yw fy nghariad." _You are my love._ Harry liked that the most of all the ways to express love, perhaps because the "hari" in the middle of the last word sounded like his name.

"I should hope so," Harry teased, his fingers running over her cheek. He drew her face over for a kiss, which turned out to be slow and sweet. He wrapped his arm around her. "Funny..." he mumbled. "We go at it like that and then we're here snuggling." 

"I suppose we trust each other," Kate said, kissing his nose, which she'd always thought was cute. She rested her head in his shoulder again, bending her head to brush her lips over a new wound from the skirmish that day. More scars to map.

"Must be it," Harry replied, unable to resist the urge to nuzzle her temple. They were both feeling drowsy and in love and it was perfect. They sleepily shared soft kisses and gentle touches as they lay curled up in each other's arms, long having forgotten what their argument was about. Harry tenderly traced Kate's one prominent scar, the one on her arm, and then pulled her closer, knowing he was the luckiest man in the world.


End file.
